The Wizarding Dead
by LongbottomzGirl
Summary: There is always more to know in the wizarding world. New creatures, old enemies. Will the trio be able to survive a new threat? Will they be able to thwart a creature unknown before it's too late? Once again their friendship will be put to the test. When facing their biggest threat yet will love prevail or set them back? Who knows when the entire world's dead are around.
1. Running

Running.

Ron was running.

Running through the woods wand in hand. Passing tree trunk after tree trunk. Pulling branches aside.

Running.

Ron Weasley was trying to put as much distance between himself and The Burrow as possible. He couldn't go back now. Not now that the infected had descended upon it. He tried Apperating over and over again, but with no avail he began to run.

A herd of them had mauled the house. He didn't know where they had come from or what had happened to them. All he could come up with was they were infected or dead or something unnatural. He didn't want to believe they were zombies, but after what he witnessed how could he not. Out of all the magical creatures in the wizarding world, he had never seen anything like them.

They were rotting. Definitely rotting. And they were covered in dried earth. And that smell! The smell they put off was horrible. As if they had been dead for weeks- years even!

In a hoard they were able to breakdown the house. Not that the structure was the most sound to begin with. But the group made it through their wards and straight for the musty, wooden door.

The first to go was him mum.

He choked at the thought. No. He couldn't think about that now. He had to run. Run for his life.

He couldn't stop to think how they had busted down the door looking for the first piece of meat in sight. He couldn't think about how he'd ran down the stairs only to see one of _them _bite into his mother's arm as she brandished her wand at them.

She went down hard. And before his eyes began to change. Her eyes went cold and dead. Before Ron even had a second to see if she was alright the mob pushed forward. More of them flooding in and filling the small kitchen. They began breaking down the walls. Searching. Hungry.

So he ran.

Ron ran back upstairs with all the speed of a former athlete, but he could hear them reaching the stairs gaining on him.

"GET OUT! EVERYONE GET OUT!" Ron yelled at the top of his lungs. He wasn't even sure who was home. He had just arrived the night before while everyone was sleeping.

There was no time to check each bedroom. There were too many of them. He could feel the stairs start to quake and hear the snapping of wood as the stampede of angry dead grew.

Percy came lumbering out the door not even carrying his wand.

"Come on!" Ron screamed at him running past. Ron grabbed Percy's shoulder and pulled him along the staircase attempting to pull him to safety.

"Ron, what is going on?" Percy asked, still disoriented. He was following in Ron's footsteps when he paused to turn around. In that second of hesitation, in the need of seeing what was going on, one of the dead grabbed Percy by the ankle and pulled him down. He didn't simply get set off balanced, but instead was pulled into the pile of rotting flesh.

Ron swore he heard a bone crunch, but couldn't stop to see the fate of his brother.

So he ran.

He ran up the staircase, threw open his bedroom door, and headed straight for the window. There was no time for thought. There was no time for another escape. Instead, he shoved the window open and without a second thought, jumped.

Although he could not fly, he was a wizard after all. So he transfigured the garden below into the softest down pillow he could think of and he landed with a soft plop. But somehow he knew that escaping the house was not going to be the end of his problems.

He could still hear the groans and smell the rotting flesh that had envoloped his home. So he rolled out of the down and ran for the woods. Barely sneaking a glance over his shoulder, he saw the house he grew up in start to fall.

***  
_I'm not sure where I'm headed with this story, but I'm hoping for a wizarding world meets The Walking Dean fic. I promise, it is not a crossover. There will definitely be some ships, but as for the story.. who knows._


	2. Hiding

Hide.

That's all Hermione Granger knew to do at this point.

She had tried spells. She had tried Apperation. But nothing was working.

There were too many of them. Spilling out into the halls. They had to be coming from inside the building somewhere.

Dead. Tons of them. Everywhere.

She had no options left but to hide.

People throughout the Ministry of Magic were running and screaming. Sparks from wands were flying in every direction. Being exposed was one of the worst decisions. If you weren't attacked by one of the shamblers, then you risked being hit by a wayward spell.

The only option Hermione had was to hide until she could think of a better plan.

She crouched behind one of the desks on the main floor clutching her wand to her chest .All she knew was something had gone horribly wrong in the Ministry. What appeared to be dozens upon dozens of dead bodies were walking among them. They were a mob. A raging mob taking down the living and biting into their flesh.

Hermione had witnessed one to many people be taken before she could figure out what was going on. Casting spell after spell, she couldn't even make a dent in the crowd of them.

All she did know was she had to hit them in the head. Only a head shot would take them down. Otherwise, they were impervious to her spells.

Her chest heaved as the adrenaline pumped through her veins. Screams filled the room with never ending fear.

Yet she sat under the desk ready to fight if she needed to, but her mind was continuing to run through idea after idea of what she could do next. Yet nothing was coming to mind.

No genius plan. No great escape.

So she sat. Hiding.


	3. Fighting

Spell.

After spell.

After spell.

Harry Potter kept casting every incantation he knew, but nothing was working. Not a transfiguration. Not a charm. Not a defense spell. Nothing worked. Nothing!

So he kept crouched behind the love seat to keep his cover and continued to look at Ginny who was hiding behind the couch emulating the same self-defense moves as he.

Harry desperately wanted to go to her. To protect her. Hold her in his arms while he fought of those _things_.

But he knew she would never let him do that. Ginny was fiercely independent and would never let any man fight for her. She always held her own. Against Voldemort when they were kids and now against whatever creature had made it's way inside his apartment.

It was funny to think only moments ago they had been on that very couch shielding her having a very private moment.

Ginny straddled him as her mouth found his neck and his hands weaved their way through her hair.

They finally had the flat alone since Ron had gone back to The Burrow to visit with family leaving them with all the empty space and privacy they could ask for.

Things were just getting started. Ginny's hands roamed under his shirt as she entrapped her lips with her. His hands tugged at the fabric of the blouse until the buttons finally popped free and she sat in with most of her skin bared before him.

Harry cupped the soft lace of her bra when they heard a scream at the door.

"HELP!" said someone in the hall. The person banged on Harry's door until the hinges were about to give. "HELP!"

As Ginny quickly pulled on the torn blouse, Harry ran for the door wand in hand ready to assist whomever came to his door.

He opened the door and his neighbor from three doors down ran into the flat. Without even looking for the cause Harry slammed the door and locked it behind his neighbor.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked holding her shirt closed with her hands.

The man slumped down onto the floor still breathing rapidly. "2C," he said gasping for air. "The woman in 2C just attacked me. I don't know what's wrong with her. I tried to get the door for her to come inside and she just ran at me. She even bit me- see!"

The man from down the hall lifted his arm to show bloody teeth marks along his arm. The skin was torn from the fight and blood was seeping onto his shirt.

"I'll get some bandages. Harry, get some ice and a clean cloth."

She was up and out of the room before the man could even finish his tale. Harry began to get up to go after her and find some clean towels when he noticed the man's eyes They were bloodshot and milky. His pupils were receding and Harry thought he might be going into shock.

Harry didn't even know the man's name to get his attention. He hadn't been living in the building long and he barely knew any of his neighbors let alone this man and the one who had attacked him.

"Sir?" Harry asked putting a hand on his shoulder. "Sir?" He gave his neighbor a small shake to attempt to bring him back to reality when suddenly the man lunged at him. With teeth glaring and gums bared, his down the hall neighbor began to attack.

Harry pushed the man off of him and went straight for his wand.

Now they were fighting. Ginny had returned from the bathroom and bandages were strewn across the floor.

There were more bangs at the door, but they couldn't get the man to go down . They didn't know what he had become or who was at the door. Could it be help? Could it be more of them?

So they fought. Until they could make an escape, they'd keep fighting.


End file.
